


Secret Identity Fail

by Chash



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, References to Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's shirt apparently makes it very easy for people to mistake him for a prostitute. And it's downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Identity Fail

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://saone77.livejournal.com/profile)[**saone77**](http://saone77.livejournal.com/) for [](http://spn-j2-xmas.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_j2_xmas**](http://spn-j2-xmas.livejournal.com/)! I tried to combine a couple of your prompts; I hope you like it!

Jensen loves this shirt. He's had it since high school, it's comfortable as anything, and he looks, in his opinion, really hot in it. It's pretty much his favorite shirt ever.

On the other hand, he thinks Danneel might have a point: it's getting too tight on him. At least, when he tells the third guy in the same night that, no, seriously, he is _not_ for sale, he has to admit that there is a difference between _looking hot_ and _looking like a hooker_.

He sighs, finishing off his drink. It's going to suck to retire this shirt, but it would probably suck more to keep getting mistaken for a prostitute. It hasn't really ever been a goal of his. And it's really just an awkward conversation to have.

He signals the bartender for a refill, but someone comes up behind him and says, "It's on me."

Jensen glances over, and there's a very tall guy leaning against the bar. He's not dressed as sharply as a lot of men in here, but he makes up for it by being a lot hotter. Jensen figures that's the kind of exception he gets to make. And the rumpled t-shirt and ripped jeans are kind of--endearing.

"Thanks," he says, giving tall, dark, and handsome his best smile.

The guy smiles back, and he has dimples. Jensen's night is definitely looking up. "My pleasure." He accepts a drink of his own and holds the glass up to Jensen's. Jensen agreeably clinks them together.

"So, do you come here often?" the guy asks. He immediately flushes. "Oh god. I can't believe I said that. That's, like, the ultimate line, right? I'm really bad at this."

Jensen laughs. "That's okay," he says. "I don't judge."

"Yeah, I guess not," says the guy, which Jensen is about to take offense to, but he keeps talking. "I've never done this before."

"Okay," Jensen says, a little warily.

"I mean, obviously I've done some of it!" he protests. He rubs his face. "God, I'm a total failure. Um, you can just--tell me how much and I'll see if I can afford it?"

Jensen's heart sinks. Of course, the hot guy _also_ thinks he's a hooker. He clearly needs to burn this shirt.

And then he thinks, well--he wanted to get laid, the guy is hot, and maybe he can make a little cash.

Clearly he's had too much to drink.

"Well, that depends," he says. "How much have you got?"

*

The next morning, on his way home, he calls Danneel. He sent her a quick text on his way back to Tristan's place-- _not coming home, c u 2morrow_ \--but he figures she deserves a chance to tell him he's an idiot.

"Hi, honey," she says brightly. "How was your night?"

"I think you're right about this shirt," he says.

"You mean that it makes you look like a twinky little prostitute?"

"Yeah."

"So it got you laid?"

"It got me, um, picked up and paid for sex."

There's a long pause on the other end of the phone. Finally, she says, "How much did you get?"

"A hundred bucks?" Jensen says. "Is that--good? Or does it make me seem cheap?"

Danneel busts out laughing. "You're worried about your prostitute reputation now? Did the college stop paying you at some point?"

"Oh god, I can't believe I did that. He was really attractive and really inept. And I was drunk."

"But you're up a hundred bucks now," she points out. "And you can check that off your bucket list."

"Being a hooker was never on my bucket list," Jensen says. "Shit, that was so dumb."

"Seriously, Jensen," Danneel says. "It was not your best move, I'll admit. But it's not terrible. Yes, you made a bad decision and accepted cash for sex. On the other hand, you were drunk, he was hot, and you are never going to see him again. So chalk it up to tequila and poor judgement and move on. Come over to Pablo's and buy me brunch with your new-found riches. Deal?"

Jensen sighs. "Deal. I appreciate your support in this difficult time."

"Congratulations on your prostitution," she says gravely.

"You're a terrible roommate and a terrible person," Jensen shoots back. "See you in fifteen?"

"It's a date. But just remember, I'm not paying you for it."

"God, shut up."

*

As it turns out, Danneel is mostly right. Aside from her making way more jokes about him selling himself than she used to, nothing really comes of his unfortunate night of prostitution.

He doesn't actually spend the money--he feels too weird about it. It's like he has this secret following him around that no one else knows about, this strange burden of having done something so--he's not even sure. He and another adult had a consensual sexual encounter that involved money changing hands. It's not the end of the world.

And if he can't stop thinking about the _guy_ , Tristan, and how hot he was and how great the sex was, well, that's definitely not a big deal. He just hasn't gotten laid in a while. His brain didn't get the memo that this was a one-time thing.

"Hey, Ackles!"

Jensen zones back in. First day of work after the break is really not the time to be stressing about this. "Hi, Cortese. How was your summer?"

"Good," says Gen. She's in the office next to his, and sort of a friend, even though she teaches religion and he teaches philosophy and she claims they're ancient enemies. "You know I've been standing here for five minutes, right?"

Jensen flushes. "Shit, really? Sorry. I'm distracted."

"Obviously. Thinking about summer loving?"

He flushes darker, of course. "What? No! Of course not."

"Wow," she says, dryly. "That was a convincing denial. I totally don't think you had a hot fling with a muscle-bound hunk that is still haunting you."

"Did you want something?" he asks. "Or were you just planning to harass me?"

"There's a new prof down the hall, Dr. Padalecki? I was gonna go be a welcome wagon, but I think we need at least two people to officially qualify as a wagon."

"Also wheels and possibly a tarp," Jensen says, dryly. "What's he teaching?"

"Anthropology," says Gen. "Apparently he is a hot young thing. If he's straight, I call dibs, if he's gay, you can have him. If he's bi, we flip a coin. Agreed?"

Jensen has to laugh. "A hot young anthropology professor, huh? I didn't think those existed."

"That means you're gonna wagon up, right?"

Jensen laughs, standing up. "I cannot believe you used wagon as a verb. Lead the way."

Gen tries to get him to open up about the hot summer romance she's convinced he had as they head down the hall. Jensen tries to convince her nothing happened, which is pretty much half true. It wasn't really a _romance_. He doesn't think one night of selling himself counts as anything other than a mistake.

"Oh, great," Gen says, stopping outside the door. "Superhero poster on the door. Total geek. All yours."

"Geeks are in," Jensen points out, checking out the poster. Alex Ross. Very nice. "Has _The Big Bang Theory_ taught you nothing?"

"Whatever," she says, laughing and knocking. "Your people will never win me over."

"It's open!" calls Dr. Padalecki, and Gen pushes the door open.

"Hi, welcome!" she says, and Jensen is about to echo her when he sees the guy and freezes.

"Tristan," he breathes.

Dr. Padalecki--Tristan--clearly recognizes him too. He licks his lips--oh god, Jensen has kissed those lips--and swallows. Jensen watches his throat work.

"It's Jared, actually," he says. "Jared Padalecki." He grins, and there are those dimples again. Shit. "Sorry, you must have me confused with someone else."

"I must have," says Jensen.

"Identical twins are everywhere," Gen says sagely, although Jensen can tell she's not going to let it go. Of course she isn't, she's Gen. "I'm Genevieve Cortese, I'm in the religion department. This is Jensen Ackles, he's in philosophy, and he was drooling over your poster."

"It's a nice print," Jensen protests, and flushes at Jared's look. "I should get going, though," he says. "We have a department meeting. I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi," Jared echoes, clearly just as uncomfortable as Jensen. "Good to meet you."

"Yeah," Jensen agrees. "I'll see you around."

Then, he flees. It's not dignified, but he's pretty sure it was necessary.

*

"Hi, roomie, what's the crisis?" asks Danneel.

"Why does there have to be a crisis?" Jensen asks, affronted. Of course there is, but he still resents her assumption.

"Because you never call me unless there's a crisis," she says, with that maddening _logic_ of hers.

"Okay, fine," Jensen grants. "Um, remember that--thing I did this summer?"

"You mean, taking money for sex and feeling guilty about it for the rest of your life? Yes, this event is familiar to me. Do you need me to tell you it's okay again?"

Jensen sighs. "The guy I fucked is a new prof."

There's a weird noise and then Jensen hears muffled laughter. He needs to get a new best friend/roommate/fag hag. Gen might be available, but she probably wouldn't be an improvement.

"Oh my god," Danneel says, when she finally recovers. "Did you meet him in a staff meeting?"

"No, he's down the hall. Gen dragged me to go welcome him to the building. He claimed he didn't know me. But there was definitely recognition there. And I guess he used a fake name."

"I thought the hooker was the one who was supposed to use a fake name."

"Well, I did too," says Jensen. He rubs his face. "God, this is a mess. It was bad enough when he thought I was a hooker, but now he knows I'm _not_ a hooker!"

"Jensen," Danneel says. "Breathe. He's not in your department, I'm pretty sure you guys don't have to be BFFs or whatever."

"I think we have to work together in a professional capacity without him thinking I'm moonlighting as a prostitute!" Jensen hisses.

"Okay," says Danneel. "Breathe. Calm down. Jensen, it was an honest mistake on his part and a stupid call on yours. Just go talk to him."

"He's going to hate me," Jensen says, and immediately realizes what a horrible error this was.

"You care if he hates you?" Danneel asks, and Jensen can _hear_ her smirking.

"He's my coworker," Jensen covers lamely.

"And he's hot and you totally like him, oh my god," says Danneel, _cackling_. "This is why you're freaking out so much. It's not because you feel bad, it's because you're actually into this guy. And he thinks you're a liar or a hooker or both."

"I don't know why I call you."

"Because I'm going to tell you exactly what you need to hear: _talk to him_. Just explain, tell him you were drunk and make bad life choices, etc. You might not win him over, but at least you'll feel better."

"You are wise," Jensen agrees. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It would be grim," Danneel says. "Pretty sure you'd end up on one of those sites that makes fun of normal people who are failures."

"Thanks for the support. Bye."

"Talk to him!"

*

Jensen means to, he does. But Jared's door keeps being closed, and that's probably a sign that he's busy. Or that Jensen is a wuss. But the busy thing, that's totally plausible too. Really.

Danneel pressures him for a few days, but even she recognizes a lost cause when she sees one. She finally just tells him that she loves him, but he's being an idiot, and he can't really argue with it.

He just can't even figure out how to start this conversation. If Jared had just been a one-night stand, it would still be awkward, and he still wouldn't really have any idea what to say to him. The fact that money changed hands just makes it fifty times worse.

Luckily (probably), the universe takes it out of his hands. He runs into Jared on his way to the lounge for coffee, and when you nearly collide with someone, it's hard to pretend they don't exist.

"Um, hi," he says.

"Hey," says Jared. "Jensen, right? Or was it Jason?" he asks, pointedly.

Jensen winces, because--yeah, he told Jared his name was Jason. He licks his lips. "We should talk," he says. "Right? We need to talk."

Jared looks about as excited as he feels. "Yeah. I guess."

"My office is closer?" he offers.

"Sure," says Jared. He pauses. "I might need coffee first. I'll meet you there?"

Jensen puts his odds at fifty-fifty that Jared will actually show up, but he figures he's done his part. If Jared doesn't show up, that's Jared's fault, and Jensen can go back to never talking to him again.

But there's a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Jensen calls. He's half-hoping it's a student looking for help with Kant, but no such luck.

"Hi," says Jared.

"Hi," says Jensen. His palms are sweating. It's like he's in back in high school. But with hooking. "So, um--"

"I'm sorry," says Jared.

Jensen blinks several times. "Wait, _you're_ sorry? I let you think I was a prostitute!"

"Yeah, but I thought you were a prostitute. That was pretty shitty of me."

"My roommate had been trying to convince me that shirt sent the wrong impression for years. I just didn't want to accept it." He laughs. "To be honest? You were the fourth guy to mistake me for a prostitute that night."

Jared laughs, short and surprised. "Wait, seriously? But--you didn't go home with them."

Jensen rubs the back of his neck. "Well, uh, you know. They weren't--" he clears his throat. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I have the money? I mean, I didn't really want to spend it. I just--"

"What weren't they?" Jared asks, sounding amused. Which is probably better than pissed.

"Huh?" Jensen asks. He knows playing dumb is stupid, but he somehow can't resist the urge. He's such a failure.

"The other guys," Jared clarifies, smiling.

"They weren't, you know, hot. And weirdly socially inept."

Jared laughs. "I'm not totally socially inept! I'd just never picked up a hooker before."

"Yeah, I thought you were telling me you were a virgin."

"Oh god," says Jared. "No!"

"I figured that out once we actually started," Jensen says, laughing.

Jared rubs his face. "Wow. I kind of figured I'd never see you again."

"Me too," says Jensen.

"I wasn't exactly happy about it," Jared offers. "I mean--you seemed nice? But I figured that it was probably weird to ask out a hooker. Or at least unprofessional."

"Oh," says Jensen. He considers. "But I'm not. A hooker."

"No, but you are my coworker," says Jared. "And we had the worst first-date of all time."

Jensen smiles. "Yeah, but we're in different departments, and you like Alex Ross. Plus, the sex was pretty good."

Jared laughs. "Only pretty good?"

"Well, it was great for me. Was it worth a hundred bucks?"

"I did think that was awfully cheap."

"I knew it! I was totally underselling myself." He laughs. "So, uh, this conversation isn't nearly as terrible as I thought it would be. Do you maybe want to get dinner with me sometime? I happen to have a hundred dollars I could use to treat you."

"Wow," says Jared. "That is a fancy dinner."

"Well, I would be expecting you to put out," Jensen teases.

Jared laughs. "So, you're a cheap prostitute, and I'm a very expensive date?" he asks.

"I can live with that if you can."

Jared grins. "Yeah. That works for me."


End file.
